what you all are capable of.”
He stared at her, his gray eyes as sharp as any bayonet. She held his gaze.
“I apologize for my hasty words, Dr. Mackay. I am truly sorry for your loss. How many years had your brother?”
The old proverb about a soft answer turning away wrath proved true. He looked surprised that she would even ask. His stance softened just a little.
“He was nineteen.”
She grieved any loss of life, Confederate or Federal. The cost of war was much too high. “Too young,” she whispered.
“Aye. ’Twas much too young indeed.”
The color was slowly fading from his face. Dr. Mackay raked back his dark brown hair, looking as if he didn’t know what to say next.
Emily waited, wondering. Will he regain his temper, or will he dismiss me without further word?
He did not have time for either. A steward from Sally and Elizabeth’s section appeared at the door. “Doctor, come quick! Your assistance is needed.”
The call of duty snapped him back to his determined, unyielding state. His shoulders straightened and the commanding physician immediately turned. Emily stared after his broad back until the door closed behind him. Breathing a sigh of relief, she then returned to her own ward.
Chapter Three
By the time Emily stepped back into the ward, Edward’s parents had arrived. Mrs. Stanton was seated in a chair next to her son’s bed, talking to him in soothing tones. Dr. Stanton was standing beside her. Emily did not see Julia anywhere in the room. She wondered if she had gone to break the horrible news to Sally concerning Stephen’s death.
Emily moved to where Edward lay. Ignoring everyone, he had once again turned his eyes to the wall. His parents, however, greeted her warmly.
“Look,” Mrs. Stanton said to her son. “Emily has returned.”
Yes, she thought as heat crept into her cheeks. I have returned. She felt terrible about what had just happened in the corridor. She wondered when exactly the Stantons had arrived, how much of her altercation with Dr. Mackay they had overheard. She knew her voice had carried. She could tell by the grins on the Confederate men’s faces. They all seemed pleased she had put the Federal doctor in his place.
Emily was not pleased. She knew she had set a terrible example, and her timing with Edward had caused him more pain. She knelt beside him.
“Eddie, I am so very sorry for the disturbance earlier. So very sorry about it all.”
He continued to stare at the cracked plaster wall. She dared not say any more. She looked to his parents. Mrs. Stanton had tears in her eyes. Her husband’s face also showed concern.
“Can I fetch you anything?” Emily asked them.
“Some fresh water,” Dr. Stanton said. He picked up the nearby pitcher. “This one is empty.”
She reached for it.
“No,” he said with a kind smile. “That’s all right. Just show me where.”
She led him to the water buckets at the opposite end of the room. Dr. Stanton ladled the liquid into the pitcher.
“Julia told us about the battle,” he said. “Would you tell me what happened with Edward just before we arrived?”
Emily did so, right up to the part where Dr. Mackay breathed out his fire.
“And Edward held your gaze?”
“Yes. He spoke to me, although it was a negative response.”
“It was still a response and for that I am grateful.” He smiled at her. “You did well, Emily. Don’t blame yourself for what happened after the doctor’s intrusion.”
She appreciated his encouragement yet felt burdened at the same time. Surely Dr. Stanton was just as concerned as she. She knew he wished to be caring for Edward himself in the private hospital, but the Federal army would not allow it. The Stanton family did not have the political connections to change the army’s mind.
“I am glad you are here to look after him,” he said.
“Thank you, sir. If I may ask, where is Julia?”
“She has gone to see Sally. Sam has, as well.” He turned from the table. “They are taking her home.”
Good, she thought. He will look after them both. Emily thought how blessed Julia was to have a husband like Sam. He was a man of strong conviction, and compassion, as well. Emily hoped she would one day find someone of equal character.
Her parents did, too, and the sooner the better.
Though at twenty-four she was hardly an old maid, they repeatedly encouraged her not to spend all her time volunteering in the hospital.
“Life is not all service and duty,” her mother insisted. “The occasional ball or outing will do you no harm. You are young and pretty, and you should give consideration to your future.”
Emily sighed. She missed the days of music and laughter and she liked silk and satin as well as any other girl, but the young men in her social circle, the sons of lawyers and city politicians, held little interest for her. She had always imagined her heart belonging to some preacher or backwoods missionary rather than a polished gentleman of Southern society.
I want to serve God and His human creation with my whole heart, she thought. A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. My husband will be a man of faith, of courage and compassion.
She didn’t know where or when she might find such a man, but Emily knew one thing for certain. She would recognize him when she did.
But such dreams must be postponed until the end of the war. For now, I must do my duty.
The evening bell chimed and the night matron came on duty. Mrs. Danforth was a round little woman of about fifty or so who never lacked a smile.
“Good evening, dearie,” she said. “And how are the boys today?”
Emily quickly gave her an overview of each man’s condition. Although the woman was dedicated to the Union and wore a blue rosette on her apron proclaiming such, Emily had no hesitancy in leaving the Confederate men in her charge. She was a kind, Christian woman.
She was anxious, however, concerning Dr. Mackay. He still had not returned from the emergency in the next room. Though she had no desire to run the risk of being lectured by him again, she was reluctant to leave Mrs. Danforth shorthanded, especially given what had just happened with Billy.
“Should I stay until he returns?”
The older woman waved her off. “Bless ya, no. He may be hours still. He’s been called to surgery. Some poor Texas boy is in a difficult way.”
Emily’s heart sank. She knew by what she’d witnessed that afternoon that Dr. Mackay was a capable physician, but the poor man now under his knife would need more than skillful surgery. He would need encouragement, compassion—and those were things the Federal doctor would not give.
“Fetch your basket, dearie,” Mrs. Danforth urged. “Your family will be expecting you.”
That was certain. Her parents would worry if she was late and she did not want Joshua, their driver, to be kept waiting at the dock. Gathering her personal items, she bid everyone good-night and left the ward.
Reverend Zachariah Henry and his wife, Eliza, both delegates of the Christian Commission, were departing, as well. Emily met them at the main entrance. Reverend Henry tipped his topper. He smiled.
“Well, Miss Davis, how was your day?”
“Well enough,” she said as they descended the long wooden ramp leading to the street.
Eliza patted her